


Never To Burn

by galaxystiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Meetings, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:50:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5110019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxystiel/pseuds/galaxystiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's perfectly content with the knowledge that he will never meet his soulmate, so long as he has his friends around him. But one by one they all meet their perfect partner. Sam meeting Jess is the last straw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never To Burn

It had eventually happened.

Sam had met his soulmate. She was beautiful, a blonde girl named Jess that he’d bumped into at the store. As soon as they’d touched, they’d both felt the white hot sear of the ink on their chests darkening.

It was the way it had always been. Everyone was born with a faded scar on their chest, just a few pigments darker than their skin tone. As soon as they touched their soulmate, the scar became a vibrant red color, staining their chests until one half of the soulmates died, then the tattoo would fade away again.

“It burned, it felt so weird,” Sam was explaining for the hundredth time. “I looked at her and knew she was it, because my tattoo felt so hot, you know?”

“No, I don’t know,” Dean told him quietly, looking at his brother wearily. He instantly regretted his words, seeing the pity in Sam’s gaze. He was happy for his brother, he really was. But he was never going to experience any of this, and seeing Sam on cloud nine only made that knowledge harder to deal with.

Sam cleared his throat. “Dean…”

“It’s fine, Sammy,” Dean cut him off hastily. He wasn’t going through this again. “I’m going out for a beer with Benny, okay? Don’t wait up.”

He left their apartment as quickly as possible, hands shaking. Soon he was going to be alone. Sam would move out to live with Jessica, it was only a matter of time now. Dean would be on his own again. The only thing that had made the knowledge of his lack of soulmate bearable was that none of his friends and family had found theirs either.

But then a couple of months ago Charlie had met Gilda at a Star Trek convention, and then last week Benny had met Andrea while on a boating trip. Now Sam had found Jess. Dean was the last one.

Except his soulmate would never come.

Dean’s scar was white. He’d been born with a pink scar like everyone else, always enthralled by the strange markings on his chest that he could never make sense of. The thought of having someone special, someone made just for him, had been overwhelming. All through high school, he made a point to try and touch as many people as he could in favor of finding his one true love, planning everything he would say to them.

When he turned sixteen, everything changed. It happened in the middle of gym, the searing pain in his tattoo, but he wasn’t touching anyone. Dean had been confused, he’d always been told it burned hot, not cold. Why did his skin feel like ice? When he stripped off his shirt, his markings were stark white against his skin and his heart had broken instantly.

He knew what that meant. He’d seen it on the news.

Not everyone believed in soulmates. Some people felt like the idea was invasive, controlling. There’d been an experimental program to break the soulmate bond, with anyone who didn’t want to meet their soulmate attending a clinic to have it removed.

Their ex-soulmate’s scars all turned white.

Dean had been inconsolable for a month, barely leaving his bed. The doctors had told him he was depressed, that he was mourning the loss of something he’d never had. But he had a soulmate. He had the feeling of security and warmth that someday somebody would love him for who he was. That someone was made to fit with him, and he was made to fit with them.

It had all been snatched away.

Fifteen years on, it still made his chest ache whenever he saw couples in the street, on TV. Whenever he saw someone meet their soulmate, he had to turn away, because he had nobody.

Finding the nearest bar didn’t take long. He had no plans to meet Benny, that had been a lie. It was barely past noon. Dean just couldn’t sit in his apartment and watch Sam glow. Maybe he was a bad brother, but he wouldn’t feel alright until he drank his way to the bottom of a bottle of whiskey.

Flopping down on a bar stool, he tapped the dingy counter for service. Politeness was for when he was in a better mood, although from the state of the bar, he suspected they weren’t exactly holding their breath for manners in here. “Whiskey,” he grunted. “Leave the bottle.”

He barely gave the bartender a second glance, only noticing a flash of unnaturally blue eyes. Out of curiosity, Dean looked up when the whiskey was set down in front of him, pushing his credit card forward. The guy was kind of cute. Angled jaw, plump lips, a shock of messy hair that desperately needed a comb. On an ordinary night, Dean might have tried to hit that, but not tonight.

“Rough day?”

Dean blinked at the sound of the deep, gravelly voice and looked back up. Man, the guy talked like pure sex.

“Yeah, you could say that. My brother met his soulmate.”

The bartender leaned over, and Dean caught a flash of his name badge. Castiel. Why did he even have a name badge? This place was a dive, didn’t seem the kind of place to worry about customer service.

“Perhaps I misunderstood. That seems to be a cause for celebration, not drowning your sorrows.”

Dean shrugged, draining the glass and pouring himself another without even attempting to savor the burn. There was another kind of burning behind his eyelids that he was trying to keep under control. “Brings up bad memories.”

Castiel’s lips parted and he gave Dean a knowing glance. Dean, lifting his glass to his lips, paused at the look. There was no pity whatsoever and that was something that he’d never been able to escape. As soon as he even implied that he didn’t have a soulmate, everyone looked at him like he was going to burst into tears at any second.

“I understand. I won’t find my soulmate either,” Castiel explained quietly. “I won’t bore you with the details.” He ran the charge through on Dean’s card and handed it back.

Dean stared down in his glass morosely, swirling the amber liquid before draining it. “Tell me,” he spoke bluntly, refusing to look up. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear about someone else’s soulmate troubles for a change. What’s the deal with yours? She get her mark removed too?”

Castiel shook his head, leaning on the bar in front of Dean, dropping the cloth that he’d been using to wipe down the counter. There was nobody else here, it was too early for anyone to be drinking. Or maybe they just steered clear of somewhere this filthy. Dean was starting to wish he’d brought his own glass.

“I did. And not by choice,” Castiel sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I had a strange upbringing. My siblings and I were ordered to break our soulmate marks as soon as the program was announced. Apart from my brother Gabriel, who skipped town with his soulmate. Me, I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I woke up in the middle of the night feeling numb with cold, and my scar was white. As a minor, my parents made the decision for me.”

Dean stared at him, not sure if he felt worse for this guy, or the guy’s soulmate, who must have been in exactly the same position as he himself was. “Dean,” he told Castiel abruptly, sticking out his hand. “I figured if we’re going to know shit like that about each other, we should at least know each other’s names. That’s really shitty, dude. I’m sorry.”

Castiel took his hand, and Dean wished vehemently for a white hot burn in his chest, but he knew it would never come, not for him.

“Castiel. Don’t be sorry. I went to see countless doctors but there’s no way to get it back. I couldn’t bear looking at it after a while, so I got it covered up with flames to imply that it burned. Then a few years ago, I thought about how my soulmate would feel. How I would feel if I were in his shoes, and I got the markings inked underneath the flames.”

Dean smiled, because it was a sweet gesture, but it wouldn’t help Castiel or his soulmate find each other. “I think this soulmate shit is way more trouble than it’s worth.” He muttered, suddenly realizing what Castiel had said. “Hang on, you said ‘he’. Do you know for certain that it’s a he?”

Castiel shrugged. “Not exactly, but if soulmates are meant to be perfect for you, well… mine has to be a guy. Never really been interested in women. I tried it once in college, but women aren’t for me,” he gave a sheepish grin.

Laughing, Dean poured himself another glass, offering the bottle to Castiel. The bartender shrugged and pulled out another glass to pour himself a drink.

“So your soulmate got her tattoo removed, huh?” Castiel tilted his head, squinting a little as he looked at Dean, almost like it was weighing him up.

It was Dean’s turn to shrug now, feeling the familiar ache in his chest. “Yeah, she did. He did. Whatever, I ain’t choosy. But either way, I’m left with this crappy white scar on my chest and the occasional person to share my bed, but they never stick around long. They’re waiting for ‘the one’,” his hand twitched towards the bottle, staring at Castiel. “I’d just like someone.”

Castiel met Dean’s gaze. “Well,” he said softly, reaching out to cover Dean’s hand with his own, stopping him from reaching for his whiskey glass. “I’m not usually so forward, but… you’re very attractive, Dean. Maybe you’ll never meet your soulmate, and maybe I won’t either. But… I think you’ve got a very big heart. I’d like to see you again, but preferably not here.”

Dean held his gaze for a long moment, deliberating. “Sure. You seem a nice enough guy, and it’s not like I’m going to bail on you for my soulmate,” he teased, giving Castiel a warm smile. It was comforting just to know that someone else was in the same boat. Castiel wouldn’t hurt him by finding his other half, he was easy on the eyes and he was kind. Maybe this wouldn’t lead anywhere, but maybe it would.

He didn’t need to see Castiel’s soulmate scar. Whether it was him or it wasn’t… they had the potential to build something special between them. A profound bond that wasn’t decided by some higher power. It was something that they could work to all on their own.

Dean’s scar would never burn white hot. But gazing into the brightest blue eyes he’d ever seen, for the first time in a long time, he didn’t need it to.

**Author's Note:**

> [MY TUMBLR](http://blueeyedangel.co.vu)


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